


Misery Loves Company

by AllTheThingsSheRead



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Albinism, Bullying, It starts bad for Gilbert but it gets better, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29361207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheThingsSheRead/pseuds/AllTheThingsSheRead
Summary: Gilbert's always been bullied at schools due to his albinism, and no-one ever cared enough to stop it. That is, until help comes in the form of their school's so called nastiest person, Lovino Vargas.
Relationships: Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Misery Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Crispyliza for a Prumano Secret Valentine exchange on Tumblr. I'm so sorry this was late, I've been busy with other things and this just slipped my mind.  
> To everyone else, I hope you enjoy reading!

Ever since Gilbert was little, he’d always been seen as weird, because he looks different from the other kids. He’s got cool red eyes and pale white skin and just as white hair. He thought he looked cool, like a vampire.

His mother always hated his appearance. She thought he looked like the spawn of Satan, and treated him as such, hiding him away from all her friends and barely bothering to talk to him unless dragging him off to one of many necessary doctor’s appointments, cold and clinical like the white walls and the white lights and the whiteness of the doctor’s coats.

( He began detesting the colour white after all his doctor’s appointments. White being the stupid colour of his stupid hair and his pale skin that branded him as wrong, and the way it smothered him as a child in a way that made him feel so cold and alone even though his mother was sitting there right beside him.)

In nursery, nobody thought twice about his weird appearance. He was the weird kid with white hair and red eyes and difficulty reading due to his awful vision, but that was that.

In primary school, people thought he was actually like a zombie or a vampire or some other freaky-cool monster, but unlike his mother, they didn’t treat him with disgust or apathy, they thought he was cool and treated him awesomely. 

It was fun, even when in Year Three Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo put garlic in his apple juice when he wasn’t looking, to see if it would burn him or not. (It didn’t, and they became best friends after that.) 

They made him feel happy in a way not even his mother could make him feel, not that she tried very hard.

(It was then he started to think that the way his mother treated him was wrong, and that she maybe didn’t actually love him all that much. His little brother Ludwig pretty much confirmed his theory as correct.)

When Gilbert was seven, his mother had another baby, named Ludwig. Ludwig was a big baby, with wispy blond hair and big baby-blue eyes.

Within no time, the house was full of pictures of Ludwig throughout the years. There was only one picture of Gilbert, and it was taken when he was sleeping as a baby, young enough that none of his white hair had yet sprouted from his scalp. 

The picture could’ve been mistaken for Ludwig if you didn’t care to look any further, which of course no-one did.

Unlike Gilbert, who ran straight upstairs into his bedroom after school to avoid his mother, his mother and Ludwig would spend what felt like hours sat chatting in the kitchen with some smoothies and fruit snacks. Then Ludwig would do shower and do his homework and then - as an afterthought-, knock on his day to say hi to Gilbert and talk to him. 

That twenty-minute conversation was easily the highlight of his day.

In secondary school, however, that’s when things started going south. He’d managed to pass the entrance exam to get into Himaruya, the local boy’s grammar school. Even his mother had acted impressed( in front of him anyway. Later that day she was telling all her friends that he’d managed to get in somehow, and wondered if maybe they’d lowered the school standards. He only cried for thirty minutes compared to his usual fifteen, a new record)

He spent his school days with Antonio, and another new kid called Francis. Gilbert was hesitant to welcome him into their little duo- what if he wants to bully me, what if it’s all a prank?- but they became firm friends.

Gilbert, Antonio and Francis became known as the BTT after that. None of them knew what the BTT stood for, it changed every time, but more commonly, people would say it stood for the Bad Touch Trio- whatever that was supposed to mean.

It wasn’t surprising that Gilbert initially thought that Francis was out to get him.

He was bullied a little bit at school, which was unsurprising considering he was at a school full of hormonal teenage boys, this sort of stuff was normal, but sometimes it felt a little targeted at him.

In the beginning of Year Seven, he found the bullying normal. Everyone bullied the Year Seven’s, it was normal. All his classmates suffered, even someone as innocent as Antonio fell victim to the Year Ten’s from time to time.

In the middle of Year Seven, which is when the bullying usually tended to taper off, it persisted. It felt like everyone was out to get him, even some of his own classmates.

Antonio would always ‘jokingly’ give Gilbert chocolates or other foods with garlic hidden inside them, even after the time Gilbert almost choked on a garlic clove hidden in a bottle of coke.  
(He never accepted any gifts from Antonio after that.)

* * *

It was January of Year 9, when he, Toni and Franny were planning their GCSE’s together, hoping that they’d somehow end up in the same classes,when Gilbert’s plans were shattered with two simple words:  
You’re moving. 

Not we’re moving, you’re moving. 

Apparently, his mum had found a school better suited for kids like him, with his so-called “anger-issues” You couldn’t blame him for lashing out when he was sick of the mean words whispered when no-one was looking.

“His god-awful taste in friends,”

Francis’s reputation precedes him. It’s not his fault, his father was an awful piece of shit who told him these things were okay. He’s getting better now, honest. (Roderich still refuses to talk to him for associating with Francis after what he did to Lizzie. Gilbert can’t remember the last time he ever saw Lizzie.)

And the fact that his appearance caused her to get a lot of weird looks at church because she’s always hated the way he stood out like a sore thumb, and how he caused bad words to be whispered about her. Never mind the things they said about him, which were admittedly far worse, but the bitchy whispering one time(once) from one of the old grannies about her was enough to send him across the country; not to help him, but to save her reputation.

It was in that moment Gilbert realised he genuinely hated his mother.

He lashed out at her, eyes full of hurt and tears brimming up, hiding the anguish and pain behind cruel words and even crueller actions, he begged and cried and screamed and kicked until he was nothing left but a broken mess crumpled on the cold tiled kitchen floor.

Gilbert glanced up with hopeful eyes, only to almost instantly feel his hope shatter into nothingness as he met his mother’s empty eyes. She was apathetic looking,perhaps even a little bored-looking , even after watching her son break down in front of her.

She only sighed and shook at her head at him disappointedly.

“Please Gilbert. I only want what’s best for my family . You’ve been scaring your brother when you come home all bruised and bloody, and he doesn’t like it. Makes him feel unsafe. Don’t you understand that?”

He understood, alright. He understood that she saw him as a nuisance, an irritation, not as a member of her family.

She then vacated her seat and made to leave, tall white stilettos clicking harshly against the white kitchen tiles around him. Each click felt like she was stabbing him instead of the floor, metaphorically leaving him to bleed out to death.

“Don’t you love me?” He asked, voice raw and full of more emotion than he’d ever displayed in front of her before.

“Or even like me?”

The stabbing stopped temporarily , as his mother faltered at the kitchen doorway, turning to face him with an unreadable expression, but no words left her lips.

She kept her attention on him for only a second, before attempting to leave as if nothing had happened.

Gilbert wasn’t letting her go that easily.

“Do you hate me?” 

When she remained silent, Gilbert only pressed harder.

“Well? Do you?” 

His voice rose in pitch at the end of the sentence, and he would’ve hated it if he wasn’t as tired as he was currently.

His mother’s shoulders tensed for only a second, then she continued walking until all he could see was her shadow..

“What do you think, you little demon?” Her voice was too muffled for him to make out her tone, and he couldn’t see her physically, but it was like she was right there in the room with him.

He realised in that moment that his mother hated him too. 

It wasn’t a mind-blowing, jaw-dropping realisation, either. He felt strangely accepting of the fact. After all, it wasn’t like she’d ever done anything for him besides the usual ‘make sure your kid doesn’t die’ shit.

He simply stayed crumpled on the floor until his mother left to go pick Ludwig up from his after-school club and warned him if the mess wasn’t put away (she means him he’s the mess she wants you gone.), he’d be in big trouble.

He stayed on the floor until he heard his mother’s car pull into the driveway, after which he sprinted into his bedroom and stayed in all night, not even coming out to eat dinner. Ludwig left one of his mother’s homemade cupcakes outside his door. He flushed it without a second thought and went to bed with an empty head and an empty stomach.

* * *

When Gilbert left for Hetalia, Ludwig cried and made him promise to keep in touch. 

His mother simply told his grandfather to ensure he was kept in line before taking Ludwig away with her, as though this wasn’t potentially the last time she’d ever see her oldest child again.

But at this point, he was numb to his mother’s reactions and actually felt pleased to be seeing the back of her. 

He stepped into the old black van of the stranger(his grandfather) and off Gilbert drove, away from a home of hatred and into a home of uncertainty and dread.

“So,” he started, but before he could finish, a harsh voice cut in.

“Kid. I’m sorry for the way Sieglinde treated you.”

“How did you-” but again Gilbert was cut off as his grandfather spoke, a sharp glare warning him to stay quiet.

“I know I only just saw that, but,” his voice was overflowing with anger.

“I can’t believe I didn’t even realise I had another grandson. It was only Ludwig who ever came to visit me, and even then it was only once.”

Gilbert kept quiet about the fact he’d technically met his grandfather. They’d only been to visit him twice; once was when Gilbert was a small, easily forgettable baby, and again when his grandmother died. Gilbert had stayed with a babysitter whilst his mum flew out with Ludwig and his grandfather to Kaliningrad- the city he’d always wanted to visit.

Supposedly, the visit was a blast, but they came home at three in the morning two days early.It was never brought up again and his mother still refuses to acknowledge it ever happened.

She didn’t talk to her father after that until she needed him to take care of Gilbert, claiming she was just ‘tying up loose ends’ and that they should ‘leave the past back in the past’.

“It’s okay though, now. I’m here for you, kid. Alright? I know we’re currently strangers, but it doesn’t need to stay like that for long. We’re family, and I plan to treat you like it.”

Gilbert glanced up at his grandfather hesitantly.

“You mean it?” He asked, hating how small and broken his voice sounded.

His grandfather took a hand off the wheel and placed it on his shoulder.

“Genuinely. I know Sieglinde’s hasn’t been the best to you and I’m sure it reflects badly on me, but trust me. It’s just her who feels like that towards you. We all love you, albino or not.”

Tears silently tracked down Gilbert’s cheeks, and he was grateful for the fact that his grandfather didn’t say anything.

* * *

Hetalia was a school halfway across the country with special remedial classes for troubled kids like him. He was troubled, but not in that way. Troubled in the fact that people kept bullying and no-one cared to stop it, not like he had any mental problems or whatever.

Antonio and Francis promised they’d call him ,but they never did.

Unlike at Himaruya, where he was seen as someone to be feared, as someone to watch out for( but never in a good way), he was seen here as one of the good ones. Even if he skipped half of his lessons (namely German and Maths) . Somebody with Gilbert’s reputation, as loud as he is, seen as a pussy, a suck-up, someone who shouldn’t be in here.

It both pleased Gilbert to know that there was hope for him yet, if his classmates and even his teachers saw him as a good person who didn’t deserve to be here, and disturbed him as if someone as fucked up as him wasn’t worthy of being in here , the types of students who actually deserved to be in here must have been pretty fucked up as well.

And wondered why they ended up here. 

Maybe they just had parents as shitty and uncaring and as his were, sending him here just to get him away from them, or if it was in a misguided attempt to genuinely try and help their children.

(He hoped against all hopes that it’s the latter , that there weren’t so many parents like his, who hated their kids for reasons they can’t help(or for something they did). That most parents genuinely cared.

He realises quickly that this school is actually a dumping for kids whose parents don’t love them.He simultaneously feels sorrow for those poor kids, and a vindictive sort of joy at the fact he’s not alone in his miserable situation. 

Misery loves company, they say.)  


* * *

Despite all that, Gilbert thought his new life wasn’t actually all that bad.

Sure, most of the teachers were awful and clearly didn’t give a shit about the students or the bullying and drug-dealing that took place in the bathrooms, but at least he had his grandfather.

The man had quickly become like a best friend to him, caring about Gilbert and all his problems and actually trying to fix them instead of throwing empty gifts at him until he shut up.

Especially after the Incident.  
__

It happened at lunch one Tuesday, succeeding an English lesson in which Gilbert had single-handedly managed to upstage his entire class by being the only one who had done his English homework, and to a very good quality, his teacher had noted, impressed. 

It felt good being noticed by a teacher for doing something positive, instead of the usual snide remarks or whispered insults he often got.

Or at least it felt good, until he got cornered in the bathrooms by an evil-looking boy that Gilbert didn’t know the name of. He was quite short, standing at around 5’5 to Gilbert’s 5’9, but he still felt fear nonetheless.

Somehow this felt different to his other encounters, like the ones he suffered through at Himaruya. Those were just petty insults and the occasional ball aimed at his head during P.E. This felt like it was going to turn into a full-frontal assault if he wasn’t careful.

Unfortunately, Gilbert was well-known for his recklessness.

“Hey there.What’s the matter, pretty boy?” He popped his blazer and winked, trying his hardest to seem cool even though inside he was screaming.

“You got me a detention today in English.” Ah, so he was another one of those thug kids who acted out to seem tough and gain attention, another brat with daddy issues.

Gilbert hadn’t been able to help the snort that erupted out of him.

“Like you hadn’t been getting enough of those by yourself.” 

“This is serious, you little shit.” The boy grabbed him by the tie and yanked him closer, but Gilbert still refused to panic.

“This is my tenth detention in a fortnight. You know what that means?” He hissed at Gilbert threateningly.

Without waiting for an answer, the boy continued.

“It means I’m getting a suspension! I don’t wanna know what my mum’ll do when she finds out.” He sounded panicked then, and Gilbert would’ve felt bad if the boy wasn’t slowly choking him.

“I bet she’ll confiscate my Switch, and she’ll probably take away all my pocket money too. I was saving up for a PS5!”

The grip on Gilbert’s tie tightened, and he slowly felt any and all sympathy he had for the boy drain away. Never mind the daddy issues. He’s a spoiled brat with a pushover mother.

“I just wanted to thank you for that, really. I genuinely appreciate that. So here, from me, as a way to make up for it.”

The grip on his tie loosened, but Gilbert didn’t even have a chance to start running for it before a pair of legs crashed into his, knocking him into the floor. He cursed as he fell to the floor, luckily managing to use his schoolbag as a sort of cushion for his head.

He felt winded and dazed, but he only had a moment's recovery time before he was yanked back up again and slammed into the bathroom sink. He saw the kid’s presence disappear in the direction of his own schoolbag, staring at him in the bathroom mirror, but he was too scared and too tired to move.

It’s fine, it’s fine. He’s just going to roughhouse me a little, and then I can go. Maybe I’ll even be able to skip German without getting told off for it.

The kid slipped his weapon into his blazer pocket, and pulled Gilbert around before slamming his fist into his nose. It hurt like a bitch, but Gilbert couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was so scared but so numb as he felt hands on his face, marring and scarring him, reaching into their pockets and pulling out- holy shit he’s got a knife.

It was a serrated kitchen knife, and just the thought alone of a knife filled him with dread.

The kid forced his knife through his collar and left it to rest on the back of his neck. The knife was cool and prickly against its position there, and he begged his body to stop shaking for the fear that the knife would accidentally strike him.

His heart was pounding, his breathing was shaky and he suddenly felt dizzy and disoriented.

“You’ll learn never to fuck with me again, if you’re able to learn anything else after this.”

However, just before the knife could slice into his neck and end it all, he felt a cool rush of wind as the bathroom door opened, and there stood Lovino Vargas, rumoured by all to be the lowest of the low in all Hetalia.

Gilbert blacked out.

* * *

Gilbert opened his eyes wearily and glanced around the bathroom’s red-stained tiled floor., which was concerning, considering he never remembered closing his eyes. Or deciding it would be a good idea to lie down on the disgusting bathroom floors anyway. 

“Hey. Gilbert.”

There was a voice attached to a face Gilbert couldn’t yet make out. His voice was stern, a sharp contrast to the concern dancing in his eyes. Gilbert’s head throbbed painfully.

Lovino Vargas, infamous for his bad temper and god-awful manners. The same guy who seemed to terrify even the teachers. The same guy who was now bending down to ask him if he was alright. Lovino met his eyes, and seemed to freeze.

“You doing good?” He sounded painfully awkward, and if Gilbert wasn’t certain that it would've been plain nasty to do it, he would’ve made a joke about his caring actions now compared to his usual bitchiness, but as it was, Lovino was doing him a favour, so he stayed silent.

Lovino reached into his school bag and pulled out, much to Gilbert’s surprise, a fully stocked medical first aid-kit. He opened it and it was full of painkillers, bandages, needles and thread and alcohol wipes, which he pulled out and seemed to inspect for a second, before harshly grabbing Gilbert’s face and scrubbing at the dried blood underneath his eyes. Gilbert hissed as the wipe first hit his bruised skin.

“Jesus Christ, couldn’t you be more careful about this?”

“Alright, you bastard! I’m sorry.” His sorry didn’t sound very sorry, and he proved it with his actions a moment later when he returned to scrub at the wound, albeit a lot gentler than before.

“I think you’ve got a split lip as well, considering there’s no way all that blood came from the gash under your eye or your nosebleed.. Hold still.”

Lovino tilted his chin up in order to clean his face better, and Gilbert inaudibly gasped when he met Lovino’s eyes and well, actually looked Lovino in the face for the first time.

He was easily the most beautiful man Gilbert had ever seen, especially when it came to his eyes. His gorgeous, absinthe eyes that seemed to glitter if he tilted his head the right way.

Gilbert paid it no mind as Lovino continued to ramble on as he cleaned his face, cleaning his face with a level of concern that he’d never felt before.

He continued to zone out until he heard the bell ring, shocking Gilbert back to his senses and reminding that he still had one more lesson before school was over, and it was German- with those idiots.

“Shit! I’m going to be late for fifth. My teacher said she’d give me detention if I bunked off again.”

His arm shot out in an attempt to grab his schoolbag, and he ended up accidentally whacking Lovino in the eye. He cursed silently, but ultimately let it slide as he gently guided Gilbert back to his sitting position.

“I already got a detention so it doesn’t matter if I bunk or not. Besides, you need to get cleaned up anyway. If you have German you’d be better off bunking anyway.Mrs Martin was bitching about having to teach the Year Ten’s fifth period.”

Mrs Martin was Gilbert’s German teacher and Lovino’s form tutor. She was fairly old with short curly white hair, and a total bitch. Unlike the other teachers, she didn’t even try to hide her disdain for her students, frequently complaining about how the students here were hopeless cases and the only reason she stayed was because no-one else would hire her. 

It would’ve been funny if it didn’t hurt so much.

“Yeah, I do. What have you got fifth period?

Lovino huffed. “I’ve got Spanish.”

“Spanish? I didn’t know you were from Spain.

Lovino gave him a Look.

“I’m not. I’m actually from Italy, I’m only taking Spanish because I fucking hate French. And I think it’s closer to Italian than French is. At least I find it easier, anyway.”

“Geez, I’m sorry! No offense,” 

Ignoring Lovino’s mumble of “Offence taken,” he continued: 

“ I’m taking German because it’s an easy 9.” So I’m hoping I won’t disappoint my grandfather n that regard. “I’m actually from Germany, but I like to say I was from Prussia because my grandparents are from Kaliningrad, and -get this- descendants of the Teutonic Knights. I think that’s pretty cool, don’t you?”

“You’re such a damn nerd bastard.”

“I’m not a nerd! I just find history and the like really interesting. Which is why I always try to get good grades in history, even if it doesn’t always work out.”

You fucking goody-two-shoes, isn’t that why you got beaten up in the first place? You’d fit in perfectly amongst those Himaruya kids.”

“I used to go there,” Gilbert admitted.

Lovino cocked an eyebrow, intrigued.  
“Then how come you left? Not everybody just gets into Himaruya like it’s nothing.”

Gilbert sighed. “It was my mother. She never liked me because of my albinism. It freaked her out, especially as my parents are devout catholics. They thought I was like the devil, so they favoured my little brother. You know what my mother said when I got into Himaruya, and my little brother said he wanted to go there just like me? ‘I don’t think that school’s the best for Luddy. Maybe you should go elsewhere.’ All because I was smart enough to fucking pass that entrance exam, I studied like hell for it just to please her, but apparently whatever school would accept me isn’t good enough for my little fucking brother.”

Lovino chuckled, much to Gilbert’s surprise. “I know what it feels like to be the least favourite child. For reasons I don’t know, my grandfather hates me. He’s always favoured my little brother, been nicer to him, yadda yadda. So I studied like hell for the Himaruya exam, hoping I could get in and finally prove myself to my grandfather as being worthy. And guess what? I didn’t fucking get in.”

Gilbert winced sympathetically and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off as Lovino continued, tears beginning to well in his eyes.

“I was close, you know? The cutoff to be accepted is 250, and I was 320th. Out of 1000 students. Pretty close, right? You’d think he would’ve been impressed, right? Not at all.”

He sighed disappointedly.

“You see, I was bullied a lot as a child in primary school, so I’d always lash out at my bullies. Only, that’s not the reasoning they gave my grandfather. They said to him that I was the one abusing all those kids and not the other way around. And so he blamed me. I always knew I would be sent to this dump, after all, my grandfather’s always thought of me as a problem child. So I needed to get into Himaruya, to prove myself to him. But it didn’t fucking work!”  
Lovino’s voice slowly rose in volume until it sounded like he was yelling at the last part, before it broke and crumbled away into sobs.

Gilbert just gawked at Lovino, speechless.

“I tried so fucking hard,-only for it all to, all to-” 

He continued to wail, head dropped into his hands supported only by his shaking shoulders.

Without even thinking about it, Gilbert leant forwards to wrap an arm around Lovino’s shoulders, pulling him closer to him.

Lovino flinched then, and Gilbert gently attempted to remove his arm, but stopped when Lovino turned so that his head was buried in Gilbert’s shoulder.

Lovino continued to shake with sobs as he wrapped both of his arms around Gilbert. Gilbert only held him, occasionally carding a hand through Lovino’s hair. They sat silently for ten minutes until Lovino’s shoulders eventually stopped shaking, and he pulled away from Gilbert.

“Your face.” Lovino muttered, voice softer than Gilbert had ever heard it before. “It’s still dirty.”

Gilbert shook his head fervently. “That’s not the big deal at the moment. What matters is what you said to me. That’s pretty awful, having to go through that. Taking those tests is pretty horrifying, yeah? And all those stories of bullying, too. We should start a petition in order to inspire teachers to take bullying seriously.”

“That sounds ridiculous. What makes you think it’ll work?”

“It was just a suggestion man, no need to freak out like that! But seriously, bullying is awful. My so-called ‘friends’ used to constantly put garlic in my food, shove me out into the sun even when I said I shouldn’t be out there because of my albinism. Some friends they were. And then, now that I’ve transferred here they haven’t even texted me once. I’m pretty sure they were actually trying to bully me too. And like, what the fuck? I’d rather have just had them bully me outright instead of fostering a false friendship. I mean, I know bullying’s cruel but that was just flat-out sadistic!”

There was silence in the bathroom for the longest time after that. Lovino didn’t look up from his space on the floor, wiping tears tracks off his cheeks, and Gilbert couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. He knew it was a bit much to expect from a near-stranger, but they’d literally just poured their hearts out to each other. He stood up and started to leave when finally, Lovino spoke up again.

“If I was lucky enough to be friends with you, I wouldn’t have bullied you like that.”

“Would you not have? Does that mean you want to be friends?”

“Your face still needs cleaning.” He’s dodging the question.Nevertheless, Gilbert stood up and grabbed some tissues from the bathroom, handing some to Lovino and running the others under the sink and continuing to wipe up his bloody face.

They remained cleaning their faces in silence for five minutes, until the bell rang marking the end of fifth period and the end of the school day.

“Gilbert.” Lovino spoke up first.

“Lovino.”

“Thanks for listening to me during my little rant, I guess. It wasn’t right for me to force all my problems onto you like that, but when I tried to tell my grandfather, he just ignored me.”

“Lovino. Seriously. It’s no problem at all. How can I say I want to stop bullying if I won’t be there for someone who’s struggled like I have? I’d gladly do this all for you again in a heartbeat if necessary.”

“I,” Lovino ducked his now-clean face into his hands. “No-one’s ever been that nice to me before.”

Gilbert’s heart broke. “Well, guess I’ll have to continue being nice to you then! When anyone makes you feel down, just call me! I’ll make it all better, just like that!”

“You’re too fucking optimistic,” Lovino mumbled then he paused. “In that case, if I ever catch anyone bullying you, cause of your albinism or whatever, I’ll just have to beat them up for you. ‘Cause that’s what friends do.” He said that last part cautiously, as if it wasn’t true or anything.

“Fuck yeah it’s what friends do!”

“Yeah.,”Lovino echoed, with a smile on his face. “Now, I should probably get going to detention, so I won't be late.” 

Gilbert shook his fervently. “Nah, I disagree! I think we should skip detention today! Lord knows you’ve had enough of those lately.”  
He beamed at Lovino, undeterred when Lovino returned with the favour with a scowl and a light smack at the back of the head.

“And do what, bastard?”

“We should go to the park or something! Maybe get McDonalds, or watch a movie at the cinema!”

“Yeah, and what happens if we get caught?”

“We won’t. The number of times I’ve evaded detention at this school tells you enough, doesn’t it?”

“You’ve got a black eye and a broken nose.

“And? You won’t care when we’re stuffing our faces full of a heart-attack in a bun!”

Lovino sighed and ultimately gave in.

“If it makes you happy, then sure.”

“Thanks so much Lovino! I’m sure you won’t regret it.

Lovino turned his head then, but Gilbert was sure he could see him smiling.

Gilbert felt himself smiling too. He was sure Lovino and him were going to be great friends.  
After all , misery loves company and he was lucky that his company happened to be one of the awesomest people had ever met.


End file.
